An Artist's Obsession
by kizukatana
Summary: Looking for a moment of self-gratification to take his mind from a recent break-up and slump in his work, Naruto finds himself flipping through a gay bondage magazine… only to find the person he least expected as the centerfold: Uchiha Sasuke - the asexual "no one touches me" heartthrob he'd gone to highschool with. AU NaruSasu Edited for ToS. Coverart by BriEva, Gift fic for her!
1. Chapter 1 - Paintings and porn

**Summary:** Looking for a moment of self-gratification to take his mind from a recent break-up and slump in his work, Naruto finds himself flipping through a gay bondage magazine… only to find the person he least expected as the centerfold: Uchiha Sasuke - the asexual "no one touches me" heartthrob he'd gone to high school with. **NaruSasu**

 **A/N:** This fic is a birthday fic for BriEva. It is an enormous oneshot, so I had to split it into two chapters. Second part is finished (even Beta'd!) and will post that on the 23rd in honor of NaruSasu day. Also thanks to IntoMyFantasy for her suggestions as well! Please note that due to FF's rules about no explicit smut, I have edited the second chapter of this to meet the ToS. If you wish to read the full version, it is up on Ao3 dot org, just search under KizuKatana.

-xXx-

Naruto looked at the half-finished canvas in front of him and sighed. The light in the studio was all wrong, and he was definitely not feeling inspired. He carefully covered his paint pallet so the colors wouldn't dry, then wrapped his brushes in some plastic wrap to keep them fresh while he took a break.

He stretched his arms over his head, and tried to decide if he was hungry or not. Nothing really seemed appealing. He looked out one of the three large windows that made up the majority of the wall in his small studio apartment.

Originally, the place had been reserved just for his painting, but after he'd broken up with his girlfriend three weeks ago, he'd moved in here permanently. It didn't have much of a kitchen, just a sink, a refrigerator and a microwave. Though he wasn't much of a cook anyway, so he supposed it didn't matter. He had a futon in the corner of the main room that served as his bedroom and all his clothes were still in boxes, since the apartment didn't have any closets and the dresser had been Sakura's.

 _Sakura._

The break-up had definitely been mutual. He didn't hate her and she didn't hate him. But they had also never loved each other either, and after two years of dating, it had become painfully clear that they never would. He smiled slightly wistfully at the times they'd had together. He needed someone with a strong personality to deal with him, given that he was always all over the place with his life, emotions, and ambitions.

Sakura had been great in those regards, ever ready to give him a cuff to the back of his head when he was being ridiculous, but also sharing his excitement when he did something great. But at the end of it all, what they really were was just good friends. It had been painful to the both of them to admit it, but they had agreed that they wanted to find something more with someone else.

Naruto was an artist. He was inspired by beauty and passion and strong emotions. The fact that he was missing those elements in his love life had left him slowly feeling empty. Over the past year, his paintings had slowly turned darker and grayer as his inspiration had dried up… and finally they weren't even coming at all. It had been months since he'd completed anything. He shot a glare at the unfinished canvas, as though it were at fault for his lack of inspiration.

Hinata was the owner of the gallery that sold most of his art, and even she had begun to get more pointed about her enquiries on when his next series would be ready and whether the content would still draw the sales that his older works had.

Naruto wasn't quite world-famous, but he was well-known in the area and his reputation had been growing steadily. He'd moved to Tokyo from Konoha when he'd graduated high school, attending University there and majoring in the fine arts. The thriving art community had embraced him and his works, and he hadn't left after graduating. He was good enough that he could make a living off his art, something that not many artists could say. And he was appreciative of the luck that had enabled him to do so up until now. But there was no denying that he had been in a slump of late. He drew a breath, scrubbing his paint-stained fingers through his hair. There was no point in beating himself up over it. He couldn't _force_ inspiration to return.

But he was restless. He looked out the window again, the gray of the sky reflecting his own emotional state. He needed to get out of the apartment. His friends all had 'real jobs', and since it was the middle of a workday, he'd have to entertain himself.

He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, stuffing his phone, keys, and wallet into his pockets before heading out. He took the steps down from his sixth floor loft, in no particular hurry and with no particular destination in mind. He turned randomly down the streets, his long familiarity with the city he'd lived in for the past six years making getting lost an impossibility.

He looked into the windows of shops as he passed, open to being tempted by food or a book… anything to distract him from the blasé feelings he had. He paused at a store that sold 'adult entertainment' before shrugging and heading inside. Having grown up with a man who wrote a significant number of the books lining the shelf in one corner of the shop, Naruto had none of the usual sense of embarrassment at entering such a place.

He glanced up at the shopkeeper, who nodded to him with familiarity. As usual, the man wore a mask over the lower half of his face, his mismatched eyes wearing an expression of bored amusement.

"Hey, Kakashi," Naruto said.

"Naruto! It's been awhile since you've been by," the man replied conversationally.

Naruto grinned and shrugged. Sakura had not been terribly excited about experimenting sexually. And to be honest, when they were together, he had lost a bit of interest as well. He hadn't found a new partner yet, though, so there was no point in looking at sex toys.

He wandered over to the magazine section. He didn't read a lot of porn, having pretty much gotten his quota when he was a young teen by borrowing books from his guardian's collection. Today, though, he needed a bit of stress relief and more importantly, he needed to think about something other than his ex-girlfriend when he did it.

He browsed through Hustler and Playboy, but they were all fairly tame and reminded him too much of his ex (minus the inflated balloon chests). No, he needed something at the opposite end of the spectrum. Naruto didn't have a strong sexual preference for men vs women. He liked _interesting_ people, regardless of gender. He could recognize beauty in male or female forms. His eye caught on a magazine that was a bit more hard core, with a lot of male on male bondage and role play action.

He picked it up, flipping through it briefly before heading over to the counter to pay. Kakashi's eyebrows raised as he saw the cover, and Naruto just smirked and shrugged. "Looking for something new, I guess."

Kakashi took the cash that Naruto handed him, and placed the magazine into a discreet paper bag. "Enjoy," he said with an amused tone to his voice.

Naruto rolled his eyes and headed back to his apartment. Maybe he'd go out to one of the gay clubs tonight. Have some human interaction, a change of scene... something that didn't have to do with his failed love life and stalled out career.

* * *

When he got back to his apartment, he hung his jacket on the hook by the door and kicked off his shoes. He saw he'd missed a call from Hinata, and he played her message. She was informing him that some of his usual buyers had been asking when his next showing would be, and she wanted to know what to tell them.

Naruto sighed.

While it was good to be a popular artist, it also put pressure on him to produce which sometimes stressed him out. He walked over to the small stereo by his futon and put on some music. He needed to just not think for a while. He always drew inspiration for his art from life. He needed to shake himself out of this depression and find something to inspire him.

He lay down on the bed, listening to the music for a while. After a few minutes, he pulled out the magazine. Deciding he might as well do it properly, he dug in his bag for the Vaseline and tissues before lying back down.

The one nice thing about living alone was the complete privacy he had. No one would walk in and 'catch him in the act'. No one else had a key to the place. The thought made him relax rather than feel lonely. He adjusted the pillows, giving himself a comfortable position to lean against the wall. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, but didn't go any further. If he didn't see anything he liked, he didn't want to go through the trouble of getting dressed again for nothing.

He opened the magazine, taking his time flipping through, looking at each picture and sometimes even reading the short articles below. He could appreciate the photos both as a man who occasionally enjoyed having sex with other men and as an artist with an eye for beautiful lines.

He felt himself stir slightly at some of the photos, but nothing really held his interest. Though there was one of a man with short orange hair and multiple facial piercings that Naruto found pretty intriguing.

He kept going just in case there was something better. He wanted to take his time with it and relax. He reached the middle of the magazine where he knew the centerfold would be.

And froze.

There in all his naked glory, pale hand wrapped around a perfectly shaped, hard cock, was Mr. 'I'm asexual, no one better even _think_ about touching me' from Naruto's old high school.

Uchiha Sasuke.

The boy who had been the object of Naruto's obsession for three years of high school until Sasuke had graduated and gone off to some prestigious college somewhere.

The boy who had made Naruto realize he swung both ways.

The boy Naruto had known he'd never have a chance in hell with, so had never even talked to… was now a man, spread naked in front of him, with a hand on his cock.

"Holy _shit_!" Naruto gaped, not sure whether shock or lust would win out. The heat pooling between his legs told him that, clearly, lust had won.

Naruto stared at the picture, wondering if this could be some sort of mistake. He had gone to a large high school in Konoha. Uchiha Sasuke had been a year ahead of him and they'd never had a single class together… never really spoke at all. His family drove him hard, and Sasuke had not allowed himself any mistakes, excelling at everything he did. Sasuke had been top of his class, class president, head of the debate team, and captain of the Judo club.

Naruto had been a mediocre student in everything but art and languages. He'd been the captain of the soccer team, and voted 'class clown'. He'd had a few girlfriends of his own back in high school, but nothing like the almost cultish following that Sasuke had had.

He had the most attractive girls and boys in their school literally throwing themselves at his feet, and he simply ignored them and walked right over them. The god of the school, Sasuke had shown no interest in anyone, sexually. Naruto had assumed he was either dating someone older and not in their school or simply had no interest in sex. Either way, he'd figured he had no chance. So he would let his gaze linger on the boy as he walked past and listen in on the rare times he could hear Sasuke talking with his friends, but that was as far as it had ever gone.

Sasuke had been… untouchable.

As far as Naruto knew, he only ever spoke to three people in school: Karin, Suigetsu and Juugo. Naruto had no idea if they'd all gone to college together or what had happened after. He'd never really thought about the boy after he had graduated, but if anyone had asked him, he would not have been surprised to find out that Sasuke had gone off to cure cancer or solve world hunger or rule the world through his sheer physical perfection.

How the hell had Uchiha Sasuke ended up in a hard core gay porn magazine?

Naruto realized he hadn't blinked in about five minutes, his eyes wide and locked on the glossy color image in front of him. Every repressed schoolboy fantasy he'd entertained about Sasuke suddenly poured into his mind's eye. Aside from being slightly taller and with a slightly thinner face, Sasuke hadn't really changed much in the seven years since Naruto had last seen him. His face was still flawless, every line sculpted as though to mock lesser beings. His black hair was still cut the same, longer in front with his bangs partially shadowing his eyes, while the back was short and stuck out in odd angles that made Naruto want to grab it.

But the thing that drew Naruto the most had always been the eyes. They had that same look that had always drawn Naruto in but also kept him away. Dark pools that seemed to look right through him with mocking arrogance, but with the shadow of loneliness that had always fascinated Naruto… made him want to reach out to him. Sasuke wore that same arrogant expression in the photo.

Even though the man _must_ have known what people used photos like this for.

The thought suddenly bothered Naruto. Sasuke shouldn't be in this magazine in that crude pose. He shoved the lube and tissues aside, unused, setting the photo on the table he used for mixing his paints before checking that he had his wallet and keys and racing back down to Kakashi's shop. He'd forgotten his jacket and it had started to rain but he didn't care. He slammed into the adult shop, startling the storekeeper from his book and started flipping through every magazine, buying anything that had Sasuke in it. Kakashi looked on in bemusement but didn't complain when Naruto racked up a large bill before racing back to his apartment in the pouring rain with his precious cargo.

* * *

Inspiration hit him like a fever. His apartment's walls were covered with naked and half-naked photos of Sasuke, torn from their magazines and pinned to his walls. After filling two sketchpads with ideas, Naruto had ripped all of his previous 'works in progress' from their easels, throwing the half-filled canvases into a corner while he painted furiously.

The photos he'd found showed Sasuke's body and face from almost every angle, giving him plenty to work with. But he loathed the photos. Loathed how they made Sasuke look, though there were days when he couldn't take his eyes from them.

He locked himself in his studio for weeks, not answering any phone calls, his only meals coming from take-out, barely sleeping as he filled canvas after canvas with Sasuke. In most of them, he was careful not to paint the full face. He didn't have the man's permission—and likely never would. Sasuke's face was always turned away from the viewer or covered by something. The only thing he always painted were the eyes. He spent hours mixing the pigments to get the exact shade of brown, black, red and gold. He would work endlessly on each painting to capture the expression of the eyes, eyes that made the viewer want to fall to their feet and worship the perfection on the canvas before him.

He was careful not to paint Sasuke's body in a crude or exploitative way. In some, black wings stretched from his perfectly sculpted shoulder blades, while a dark mist concealed his face except for his eyes which burned through. In others, Sasuke was merely standing or walking, the perfect lines of his body painted in exquisite detail.

Despite all the paintings being of a nude figure, there was nothing overtly sexual about them—more of a controlled sensuality, the object of desire seen from afar. To be admired, but not claimed.

He painted three pictures for his own private collection, however, where the full face was revealed. These would never be displayed, but he had wanted something for himself, where he could at least have the man in his fantasies, if not in reality.

When he had finished these, he took all the photos from the magazines and burned them, much preferring his own more subtle exploration of Sasuke's body and sexuality than what some smutty magazines had produced for idiots to jerk off to, fully acknowledging that he had been one of those idiots.

Looking at the rows of paintings drying in his apartment, he decided it was time to call Hinata over to see what she had to say, if these would be something she could display or not.

* * *

Hinata stared in awe at the paintings. She had been enamored of Naruto's art since she first saw some of his paintings displayed at a student showing, years ago. His work was always full of passion and color, the people he painted so full of energy and life, it sometimes seemed as though he had captured a part of their souls when he painted them.

But she had never seen anything like these.

The sheer beauty of them made her breath catch in her throat. The emotion of longing, worship, lust and admiration poured off the canvases.

"Naruto… these… these are amazing!"

Naruto blushed, scratching the back of his head. "So… do you think they're ok for the exhibit?"

Hinata could only nod as she walked around looking at them. There were three that were facing the wall, but when she went to touch them, Naruto placed a hand on her wrist, stopping her. "Those are private."

Hinata blushed, and Naruto realized she probably thought they were sexual. In a way, she was right. But not in the way she probably thought.

"Will he be coming to the exhibit?" Hinata asked.

"Who?" Naruto said, confused.

"Him," Hinata gestured toward the paintings. "Your model."

Naruto blushed scarlet. He could only imagine how angry Sasuke would be if he knew that Naruto had painted these. That was the whole reason he had avoided painting the man's face directly. No one would ever know who it was, except for Naruto himself.

"No. There is no model. This is just from my imagination," Naruto said, not exactly lying, but not exactly telling the truth either.

Hinata's eyebrows rose, but she didn't challenge him on it. "Ok. Well, we're having a showing at the end of this month. I'll let your regular patrons know."

She pulled out her camera and took a few pictures of his work. "I'll put a few of these in our advertisements. I'm sure we'll draw quite a crowd with these. It's the best work you've ever done."

Naruto nodded vaguely, already feeling the urge to paint more.

"When they're dry enough to be moved, I'll have Kiba come by and help me take them to the gallery," she said, but she realized she was talking to herself as Naruto set a fresh canvas on his easel and began to paint an outline of a very familiar form.

Hinata watched him for a moment, enjoying the sight of an artist truly lost in his work, consumed by his muse. She smiled softly, but with a tinge of sadness. It was a pity that the man Naruto painted wasn't real.

Because it was clear that the blond was in love with him.

* * *

The first night of the showing went exceptionally well. Hinata had almost fainted at some of the prices that were offered for Naruto's paintings of his imaginary lover. Naruto never attended these events. He was thoroughly uncomfortable with the society people who attended. While he was very sociable with some of his fellow artists, he never met any of the art patrons in person, even using a 'stage name' for his works so he wouldn't have to deal with any of them directly. That's what Hinata earned her thirty percent for.

By the time the third and final night of the showing came around, all of Naruto's works had been sold. The purchasers were told that they had to wait until the show was over before they could come and collect their works, as was standard practice for the gallery.

Hinata placed her hands at the small of her back, rubbing her knuckles into the tired muscles there as the final evening drew to a close. Her eyes scanned over the crowd, noting with some pleasure that Naruto's works still were drawing the biggest audience. Several people had come to ask her to notify them immediately if additional paintings in this line became available from the artist. Hinata had taken their names, and said that the artist was definitely still very inspired on this theme and she knew he had several more paintings in the works.

One man drew her attention. He was tall, with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail over his Canali suit. As a purveyor of art, Hinata had a deep appreciation for beautiful things, and the man definitely was one. But there was something in the intensity of his stare at Naruto's works that made Hinata slightly uncomfortable.

She saw the man asking a few questions of some of the others near Naruto's paintings, and one of them turned and pointed in her direction. Black eyes locked instantly on hers, and Hinata felt her palms tingle with nerves. She knew those eyes. Though… as he walked directly toward her without breaking his gaze, she realized that while the eyes were similar, they were not the same eyes that Naruto had painted. She let out a tiny breath of relief. She was quite sure this man would have no tolerance for people painting nude portraits of him and displaying them all over Tokyo.

"Good evening," the man said, bowing politely though he was obviously impatient to discuss something with her. "I understand you are the owner of this gallery?"

"Yes," Hinata said, returning the man's polite bow with exactly the same degree of deference but not an inch more. She was wealthy in her own right, and would not acknowledge a lower station than this intimidating man. "I am Hyuuga Hinata, and this is my gallery. How may I help you?"

The man looked at her, clearly reassessing her when her words didn't ooze with flattery or flirtatiousness. "My name is Uchiha Itachi. I am interested in purchasing the works of N. Namikaze and meeting the artist."

Hinata recognized the man's name. He was a known art collector, but focused more on earlier works. Her gallery only housed new paintings, so their paths had never crossed before. "I have heard of your collection, though I thought you were only interested in earlier periods. Mr. Namikaze will be honored to hear of your interest in his works. I am afraid that all of the paintings currently on display have been sold to other collectors, but I know that the artist is still very inspired on this line and will be producing more paintings. I would be happy to add you to the list of -"

"No," Itachi said, cutting her off. "I don't wish to be added to a list. I want to speak to the artist directly. I would be happy to pay double whatever the others have offered for the paintings. I would like to purchase at least one before I leave this evening."

Hinata's eyes cooled significantly. "We do not run that sort of gallery, Uchiha-san. The paintings are sold to private collectors. I will not dishonor the name of my gallery by going back on the terms of a sale. In the future, if you wish to have first pick of the paintings, then I suggest you don't wait until the end of the final evening of the exhibit to show up. The artist does not meet with people. There are no exceptions. Now if you will excuse me, I have a gallery full of people to attend to."

Itachi's eyebrows rose in surprise. It was unusual for his requests to be dismissed so thoroughly.

"Hinata-sama!" a man with exceptionally large eyebrows approached the gallery owner.

"Lee, it's good to see you," Hinata said gracefully, turning and dismissing the Uchiha. "How may I help you this evening?"

"I was wondering when I can pick up my painting! I have arranged a spot in my private gallery for the new Namikaze piece, and I was hoping to take it home with me this evening!"

Hinata smiled at the man. Of all her patrons, Lee was by far the most exuberant about his art collection. Many of the other patrons looked down on him, both because he was 'new money' but more because he was loud and excitable. But she found it rather endearing. "Lee, I have explained this to you before. You know that we keep the paintings until the end of the exhibit, then we photograph and document each one before releasing it to the individual collectors. The earliest you can have the painting will be tomorrow afternoon, after our photographer has finished his work."

Lee looked disheartened, but nodded before slowly walking back to look at 'his' painting. As Hinata turned to answer another question, she did not notice the taller dark-haired man had followed Lee.

* * *

Itachi stood in living room of his little brother's fashionable apartment. His spontaneous decision to visit the up-and-coming art gallery that he had been hearing so much about had resulted in a very unexpected acquisition. He had managed—at great expense and not a small amount of intimidation—to procure one of the Namikaze paintings and brought it back for his brother.

Sasuke had been surprised when Itachi had shown up on his doorstep with a painting. But once he had unwrapped it, he had immediately understood why. Sasuke looked at the canvas critically. He wasn't vain, but he knew his body well enough to know that the painting was definitely of him, even though the figure in the painting had wings. Sasuke would have laughed at the notion of someone painting him as an angel if the work hadn't been so amazing.

While there were wings growing from his back, the feathers were black, not white. The painting showed a being that radiated a sort of sensual power, beautiful, but not innocent. He was looking over his shoulder, the arch of one wing covering up most of the face, but the eyes were dark, filled with intelligence and arrogance.

And haunting loneliness.

Despite the figure being nude, there was no invitation in the dark eyes. Nor was there modesty. It captured every detail of Sasuke's body, the way he held himself… the way he moved. Even the small tattoo on the base of his neck was recorded in perfect detail.

"Who is the painter?" Itachi asked.

Sasuke looked over in surprise. "I have no idea."

Itachi's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me Sasuke. Just tell me you don't want me to know, but don't lie."

Sasuke bristled. "I'm not _lying._ I never posed for this. Not for any of these," he gestured to the pamphlet that Itachi had brought showing the artist's other works in this series. All clearly of Sasuke. "And I've never heard of anyone named N. Namikaze. He must have painted this from my photographs."

Itachi's nose crinkled slightly, his show of distaste for his brother's 'work'. After refusing to allow his parents to arrange a marriage for him, Sasuke had been summarily disowned in his second year of college and cut off from the family's financial support. Itachi had also gone against the same efforts to find him a bride, but as the first son, his father had not wanted to take the risk of cutting him off after the amount of time he'd invested in grooming Itachi as his successor. As the expendable second son, Sasuke was not so fortunate. Unable to afford tuition on his own, Sasuke had dropped out and quickly found a job that was not only quite high paying, but carried with it the intense satisfaction of utterly humiliating his parents.

After spending his life striving endlessly for their approval only to constantly fall short, he had gone in the opposite direction when they'd forced his hand.

"These paintings are nothing like those _photos_ ," Itachi's disdain for the pictures was clear in his tone. He had been sent overseas to open a new branch of the family business, unaware of what was happening in his brother's life. Sasuke had been too proud to ask his brother for help, and had assumed he didn't give a fuck when Itachi never reached out to him when his parents had disowned him.

He didn't realize that his parents had kept their rift a secret, telling Itachi that Sasuke was simply busy at school when Itachi had asked why he didn't hear from his brother anymore when he called the house on weekends or holidays.

Their parents had hoped Sasuke would break after a few months of no financial support. The rest of the family was fixated on Itachi, so they didn't even notice when Sasuke no longer appeared at family gatherings. Imagine their parents' surprise a year later when Sasuke sent them copies of all his magazines, having them couriered directly to his father's office.

He only wished he could have been there to see his father's face. It might have actually been the first time the man would have truly looked at him and not been thinking of his brother.

Itachi had been furious when he found out, demanding that Sasuke stop. He understood Sasuke's resentment towards the rest of the family, but he hated to have Sasuke preyed upon by people who obsessed over his brother's looks. Itachi had already become successful in his own right and offered to support Sasuke himself, but Sasuke wanted nothing to do with the family business or the family money and had refused. He was now quite well off on his own. He only did photos, never movies where he would actually have to have sex with others. But he was one of the top paid models in the business, his popularity only growing more each year.

 _Much to his parents' horror._ Sasuke smirked.

He didn't care if people only used him for his looks. At least it was on his own terms. He used them for money and independence, so he supposed it was even. He had long ago given up any childish notion of people seeing past his looks, or his failure to surpass Itachi in anything. He kept people at a distance and was completely fine with that reality.

Eventually, he would go back and finish his degree. He had enough money to do so. He was just enjoying rubbing his parents' faces in it a bit more. Because _fuck_ them.

But somehow, this painter… this _person_ … had seen behind his walls. And Sasuke wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"He clearly knows you. He's captured your personality, not just your body. I knew it was you just from the eyes," Itachi looked at the painting, amazed at how instantly recognizable Sasuke was even without most of his face being shown. How well the artist seemed to know him.

Sasuke shrugged. He didn't disagree. It was a slightly odd thought, to have someone painstakingly detailing out every intimate line of his body, and not know who they were.

"It has to be a lover of yours," Itachi said, broaching the subject they had always avoided with each other since Sasuke had been disowned.

Sasuke looked back at the painting. "I don't… think so."

Itachi arched a brow at the statement. "How do you know?"

As expected, Sasuke didn't answer.

Truthfully, Sasuke had taken very few lovers, and he had kept them all at arm's length. None of his lovers knew him well enough to capture the details of him in this way. And the few friends he had couldn't even paint a stick figure. It was… unsettling.

Itachi sighed when it became clear Sasuke was not going to respond. "Very well. I will leave the painting here, as a gift. The card of the gallery owner is tucked in the back. The artist is evidently some sort of recluse, but she said she would notify me when his next showing will be."

Sasuke said nothing, though he would admit his curiosity was more than just piqued.

After Itachi left, he went back and looked at the painting some more. The way the artist captured him so completely made him wonder who it could possibly be. He didn't let people in his life. He had never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or even a particularly close platonic friend. All his sexual experiences had been very transactional, the meeting of a basic need. Yet, this… _stranger_ seemed to see things in him that he thought were hidden from everyone but Itachi.

What was even more unsettling was the way that the artist seemed to focus on the subtler elements of Sasuke rather than latching onto the ones everyone else seemed to.

He flipped through the brochure that had the photographs of the artist's other work. He spent the remainder of the evening studying them, noticing the subtlety of the expressions the artist had captured on his face. Of loneliness… empty confidence… so many things that Sasuke thought he had kept hidden from the world.

There was something in the way the artist painted him that didn't objectify his body or looks, but made him feel as though he were something incredibly precious and perfectly imperfect. Human. Unlike the photographers who displayed him in as sexually explicit ways as possible, Sasuke got the sense that this artist somehow felt so much more than that about him.

Having spent a lifetime coming in second to his brother, being discarded by his parents, and lusted after solely for his looks, Sasuke felt that for the first time, someone had really bothered to look past all that and see him for who he was.

He wondered what the artist looked like.

Sasuke pulled the business card out from the back of the painting.

He wanted to meet this N. Namikaze.

-xXx-

 _to be continued..._

Second part coming up in less than 3 days! ;-)


	2. Chapter 2 - Laid bare

**Summary:** Looking for a moment of self-gratification to take his mind from a recent break-up and slump in his work, Naruto finds himself flipping through a gay bondage magazine… only to find the person he least expected as the centerfold: Uchiha Sasuke - the asexual "no one touches me" heartthrob he'd gone to highschool with. **NaruSasu**

 **Warning:** THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED to meet this site's Terms of Service. Full scene is up on AO3 dot org... just search under Kizukatana and you will find it there.

 **A/N:** As promised - here is part 2! Happy NaruSasu day!

-xXx-

"I'm sorry, Mr. Uchiha, but Mr. Namikaze does not see clients. No exceptions."

Sasuke glared at the pale-eyed woman calmly telling him 'no'. "Why?"

Hinata shrugged. "He says he's not comfortable with art collectors. He paints what he wants to paint, and doesn't want to be influenced by the people who purchase it. I suppose to avoid becoming commercial."

The truth was more that Naruto thought most collectors were pretentious snobs and he had no desire to interact with them. He'd had enough trouble dealing with the 'upper class' kids who'd gone to his school, and he had no desire to spend any additional time with them now that he really didn't have to. Hinata allowed it because, one, she wanted to keep her relationship as Naruto's sole gallery where he exhibited his art and, two, his reclusive nature lent an aura of mystique to his work that didn't exactly hurt sales.

"Hn," Sasuke looked at her consideringly. He had already figured out that the artist must live locally, given that this was the only gallery that showed his work. But Tokyo was a huge city, so that bit of knowledge didn't narrow it down. A search under N. Namikaze had not turned up anything, so Sasuke assumed it was not the artist's real name.

"Given that I'm not a collector, but I'm actually the model for his works, I think you should reconsider your stand on this."

Hinata's eyes widened at his words, and Sasuke took pleasure in finally being able to rattle the composed woman. She ran her experienced eye over his face. There was no doubt that his eyes were uncannily similar to those of the man in the painting, but still…

Sasuke turned slightly, tugging the collar of his shirt to reveal the teardrop tattoo on the base of his neck.

"I am the model. And he didn't have permission to use my likeness in his paintings. Unless you want to be sued along with him, I suggest you arrange a meeting for us to discuss this."

Sasuke didn't know why he felt so compelled to meet the artist, but there was something about the way the man had painted him that made Sasuke want to know who he was. It was disconcerting to have some unknown person that intimately familiar with his body and personality but not actually know him.

"I…" Hinata's mind raced. She didn't want to go against Naruto's wishes, but if this man was who he claimed to be, then it was possible he could cause problems for the gallery as well as her friend. Naruto had said the model didn't exist, but the resemblance was uncanny. Of course, it was possible that the man just happened to have similar features and had gotten the tattoo after seeing the paintings to try to get something out of it. Hinata wasn't sure what to do.

"I'll think about it. Leave me a number where I can reach you."

Sasuke wrote down his number, annoyed that he hadn't gotten what he wanted. Evidently, there was going to be another showing in a few days. Namikaze's newest set of works was already on display. Sasuke walked over, unable to get over his sense of unease at how well the artist captured him. Seemed to _know_ him. In one of the paintings, there was a small tomato on the table beside him, as though he had been preparing it for his lunch. There were details about him that couldn't have come from the magazines.

"Hey, Hinata! Here are the final paintings from Naruto that are dry enough to bring over. The rest will have to wait until the next show. I had to literally force him to get out of his apartment to grab dinner by telling him I'd let Ichiraku's know I'd pay for his meal if he went out and ate it there. I don't think he's left his apartment except to buy more painting supplies in over a month. I've never seen him so obsessed."

Sasuke was far down the aisle of the paintings, out of sight from the two who were talking. _Naruto?_ It couldn't be the same Naruto he'd gone to high school with, the one who'd been captain of the soccer team. He never heard anything about him painting at all.

He remembered the boy was in the grade below him, but had never seemed to notice Sasuke much at all. Sasuke had noticed him, though. The loud, bright, beautiful captain of their soccer team. He'd always assumed that Naruto was straight, and since the boy had never shown any interest in him, Sasuke had let him slip from his mind altogether when he'd graduated and had his falling out with his family.

Sasuke had felt a compulsion to meet the mysterious artist when Itachi had first shown him the painting. He had felt a general fascination with whoever had known him so well, observed him so closely, but it had been tempered with wariness by the fact that it could be a complete creeper stalking him. The idea that _Naruto_ was the one who had painted all those works about him amplified his need to meet him by a thousand-fold, and made a slow heat pool in his body. He smirked in anticipation of the idea of confronting him about it.

"Kiba, just put the paintings over by the other's. I'll arrange them tomorrow. Did Naruto take his cell? We had someone come in today looking for him, and I want to see if he knows this person or if they're just another weird stalker."

Sasuke frowned, not liking either the characterization of himself as a stalker nor the fact that Naruto evidently had actually _had_ stalkers.

He heard the man sigh. "Probably not. He tends to not remember anything when he's in the middle of a project. I hope it isn't any of his groupies from that art class he taught last summer. He doesn't have Sakura around anymore to beat the shit out of them if they follow him home."

Sasuke's frown deepened at the implications of that last comment, but brushed it aside. He didn't believe Naruto was in a relationship with someone else if he was painting Sasuke this obsessively. One of the things that had compelled Sasuke to meet the painter was the way that he put so much of _Sasuke_ in the portraits. There was a depth of emotion and understanding that went into them that made Sasuke confident that Naruto wasn't in a relationship. Or at least, not a serious one. He was slipped out the door, pulling out his phone as he exited the gallery before Hinata or Kiba could notice him. He looked up the address of Ichiraku's, pleased to see it was only about six blocks away. Naruto must live closeby.

* * *

Naruto was sitting in his favorite booth at Ichiraku's. He'd showered (at Kiba's insistence) and gone out to eat (also at Kiba's insistence) and was feeling remarkably more human than he'd felt in months. His third showing was coming up in two days. This series had been so successful that he was getting requests from other galleries and major collectors about his work. Naruto fiddled nervously with his spoon. He didn't mind the money, but the attention was stressing him out.

Hinata shielded him from the bulk of it, but she passed on enough of the messages that he got the idea of what was happening. Part of him was flattered but another part was beginning to feel… exposed. His knew his obsession was getting out of control. Sasuke was all he could think about, all he could paint. Naruto was beginning to wonder if he'd ever move on to something else, or if he'd just be trapped in this spiral of madness, joining the long list of painters whose sanity had been sacrificed to their art.

At least he hadn't chopped off an ear yet to prove his devotion to Sasuke. He chuckled a little to himself, but he felt a prickle of unease at the thought. It was the first time when he really wondered if he was losing himself in his art… _too_ much.

He glanced up as someone walked into the small restaurant. His eyes widened in shock before he took a breath and forced himself to look away. This could not be real. He was suddenly seriously concerned about his own mental health.

 _Jesus Christ. Now I'm seeing him even when I'm not painting._

He put his spoon into his bowl of noodles, closing his eyes tightly and willing the apparition to go away. He heard footsteps approaching his table, then stop beside him. Drawing in a breath, he opened his eyes and looked up. He froze as the hallucination of his fantasy-come-to-life sat down across from him in his booth.

Naruto said nothing, simply staring, waiting for 'Sasuke' to vanish or change into someone who could realistically be casually joining him for lunch.

"Tch. Dobe. What's wrong with you? Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to say hello?" Sasuke's expression was slightly annoyed. When he'd walked into the restaurant, he'd expected Naruto to either be embarrassed or excited to see him. Not look away and close his eyes like he wasn't even there.

Naruto blinked, a slow feeling of panic starting to set in. Could it really… but maybe it was just a coincidence? If it really _was_ Sasuke, it didn't necessarily mean he knew about the paintings. Naruto hoped. "What? Are you… really Sasuke?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I knew you were an idiot in high school, but I sort of thought you would have grown out of that by now. You can't possibly expect me to believe that you don't _recognize_ me after all the time you seem to spend painting me."

Naruto's stomach dropped and he broke out into a cold sweat. If this was not him losing his mind and Sasuke was _actually_ sitting across from him and apparently knew he'd been painting him… then he was so fucked.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. FUCK!_

Naruto's mental litany offered no helpful suggestions for how to handle this situation. But at least Sasuke appeared calm. Though that was baffling to Naruto, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I… uh… just didn't expect to see you," … _ever._ Naruto tried to get his brain to catch up with the fact that his high school fantasy was sitting across the table from him and knew what he'd been painting. He couldn't help the way his eyes slid over the familiar planes of Sasuke's face. There was a presence about the man that even the best photographers were never able to capture, and Naruto found himself staring again as he drank in the sight of him. He flushed realizing that he really hadn't seen or thought of Sasuke wearing clothes in a very long time. He caught himself wondering what Sasuke's skin smelled like, and had to grip the edge of the table to control the urge to lean forward and find out. And the texture of his skin...

"Uh… what are you doing here?" Naruto asked finally.

Sasuke leaned back, observing Naruto for a moment, enjoying the look of flustered fascination in the blue eyes. He shifted his legs slightly wider apart. "Itachi bought me one of your paintings."

Naruto's blush intensified. He was a bit surprised that Sasuke didn't seem to be embarrassed about it. But then again, he posed naked for a living.

Sasuke smirked, as though reading his thoughts and enjoying Naruto's discomfort.

"But… why are you here?" Naruto repeated, even less sure of the answer given that Sasuke didn't appear to be angry. If Sasuke wasn't here to beat the shit out of him, then… what did he want?

Sasuke relaxed against the back of the booth, completely comfortable watching Naruto squirm. "I wanted to meet the person who had painted them. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was the blond idiot who used to follow me around in high school."

Naruto frowned, his temper snapping him out of the daze that Sasuke's presence had put him in. "Bastard. I never followed you around. I never even spoke to your frigid, stuck-up ass in high school."

"Hn," Sasuke said, looking at him consideringly. "Why didn't you?"

Naruto dodged, already feeling emotionally exposed enough for the day. "I thought we just established that I thought you were a stuck-up, ice princess asshole in high school. Why would I want to talk to you?"

Sasuke just arched an eyebrow, then tossed the latest Hyuuga Gallery brochure, conveniently open to photos of nearly a dozen of Naruto's paintings. All were of Sasuke.

"So?" Naruto shifted uncomfortably. He knew exactly what was in those paintings. And it was more than clear that Sasuke understood. "I like to paint pretty things. You're a pretty thing."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at the 'pretty' comment. "These aren't just about my body. You painted a lot more of me in there."

Naruto shrugged, looking off to the side. "I like to make my art... interesting?"

Sasuke didn't look like he was buying Naruto's half-assed explanation.

"I want to see the rest of the paintings," Sasuke stated firmly.

"They're down at the gallery. Kiba came by today to pick them up. You can go check them out there." Relief colored Naruto's voice. Maybe he could get Sasuke to leave so Naruto could finally get his brain to start _functioning_ again. Not to mention he really should think about breathing again soon or he was going to pass out.

"I saw the ones at the gallery. Kiba said you have others at your studio. I want to see them."

"Why?" he asked, his mind going immediately to the set of paintings that he hadn't even allowed Kiba to see. Any hope he had of playing this off as anything other than an extremely obsessive, slightly stalkerish fixation would be destroyed if Sasuke saw _those_. His face must have given something of his thoughts away, because Sasuke's face firmed with resolution.

"They're of me. I want to see them."

"Narcissist much?" Naruto hedged. He had hidden his 'private' ones from Kiba when the man had come, but he had uncovered them again once he had left. There was no way Sasuke wouldn't get pissed if he saw those paintings.

"You didn't have my permission to use my likeness in the paintings. I could sue you." Sasuke cocked his head to one side, a slightly taunting, daring tilt to his lips. Now that he knew the painter was Naruto, he wanted to know everything about the paintings. How long had Naruto been thinking about him? Why did he paint him? Had he painted others like this in the past? The thought made a spike of anger surge through him. He didn't like that idea at all. He didn't want this to be some passing fad for Naruto. He didn't know what he wanted. But he knew he wouldn't be able to explore it here in public.

"I don't use your name or show your face. And your image is posted in magazines all over the place. It's public information what your body looks like." Naruto couldn't quite hide the anger in his voice at the memory of those photos. _God,_ he loathed them.

Something of his feelings must have shown on his face. Sasuke shifted the napkin in front of him slightly to the side, looking smug. "You don't like my job, _Na-ru-to_?"

The taunting tone in Sasuke's voice gave Naruto the sense that many people probably coveted Sasuke's body, and had made similar arguments in the past, wanting to own it for themselves. What right did Naruto have to be possessive? None. And it made him crazy to acknowledge it. He wasn't even sure he'd qualify as an acquaintance of Sasuke's. He had actually been surprised that the man had remembered him at all from their high school days.

Naruto shrugged, looking away. "It's your body. You can sell it if you want to." The possessive anger in Naruto's voice was clear for both of them to hear, but he couldn't help it. He had lost control when he'd opened the first damn magazine and found Sasuke's photo in the centerfold.

Sasuke arched a brow. "You painted me naked, too, you know."

Naruto felt his anger spike at the words, comparing what he had done to the works of those porn-running assholes who'd photographed him. Nevermind that Naruto had previously been a big fan of such photographs. That was before they'd pointed their cameras at someone he knew.

"Look, I might have painted you naked, but I didn't _objectify_ you the way they did! That's not how I see you!" he realized that he was almost shouting, and glanced around the diner, noticing a few people listening in on their conversation.

Surprisingly, Sasuke didn't dispute his statement. If anything, he looked intensely pleased by it. He regarded Naruto for a moment, a flicker of an intense emotion Naruto couldn't place flashed across his face as he stood.

"Why don't we talk about this back at your studio. Unless you want to have this conversation in here," Sasuke turned, not bothering to look over his shoulder to see if Naruto was coming. This was a place that Naruto ate frequently… he was pretty sure the blond didn't want to cause a scene there.

Naruto's hands started to sweat. Was this the part where Sasuke was going to kill him? Take Naruto back to his studio, so there won't be any witnesses? Feeling backed into a corner, Naruto stood, leaving a few bills on the table to cover his food, flustered and forgetting that Kiba had said he'd pay.

* * *

Once they were outside, Naruto turned to face Sasuke, trying to get him to change his mind. He wasn't sure he trusted himself to be alone with the object of his obsession. Sasuke was supposed to be a fucking genius. Why was he wanting to basically go home with his stalker? "Look, why do you want to see the studio so badly?"

"They're paintings of me. I have the right to see them." Sasuke's tone and expression brooked no argument.

Naruto sighed. He supposed in a way, Sasuke was right. By selling the paintings, Naruto had made his obsession public. Whatever Sasuke decided to do about it, Naruto would just have to accept it. As they walked the short distance to his apartment, Naruto's anxiety grew. While he was willing to take whatever was coming to him for Sasuke's reaction to the _public_ paintings, he didn't feel the same about the ones he painted just for himself. Those were never going to be shown, and he didn't want Sasuke to go off the deep end thinking he would display them like the others.

The ones he painted for selling were bad enough. Having Sasuke see the private ones would leave him emotionally stripped bare. He couldn't let Sasuke see those.

"Um, just wait here. You can see the paintings I have for public display. But there are some that are private and frankly none of your business."

Sasuke looked like he might object, but Naruto had already stepped in, deftly closing and locking the door behind him while he quickly covered the six paintings that showed Sasuke's face. He trotted back to the door, opening it and letting a slightly annoyed-looking Sasuke in.

The pale man's eyes widened as he took in the canvases filled with his image along the walls of the studio. There are a few paintings of other things from some of Naruto's older themes, but those were generally tucked aside.

Naruto could hardly believe that the object of his obsession was standing casually in the very room where he'd spent endless hours fixated on every minute aspect of his body and presence… his schoolboy fantasy literally brought to life.

Sasuke looked at each one, silently taking them all in before turning to look at Naruto again. "So you're still going to try to tell me that you weren't interested in me at all in high school?"

Naruto's eyes flickered to one of the covered canvases, but he didn't answer. Sasuke caught the direction of Naruto's gaze and before the blond could object, the painting was uncovered by a pale, elegant hand.

And of course, there was no denial that Naruto could state now. The painting showed two boys, both wearing their school uniforms. Sasuke's face clearly visible as the younger blond boy pulled him down by his red tie into a heated kiss against a familiar-looking locker. There was a dark look of possession on the blond's face in the painting, seeming to feed off the look of naked lust in Sasuke's painted expression. Sasuke felt his blood stir as he saw the tan fingers slipping into the waistband of the older boy's school uniform pants.

He had never let anyone touch him like that in high school. He'd still been trying to live up to his family's impossible expectations at that time, so coming out of the closet had been out of the question. Not to mention that the majority of the people trying to get in his pants were more turned on by the size of his family's bank account than the size of anything else he might have to offer. Naruto had been one of the few people who had seemed to honestly not give a fuck about his family. It was one of the reasons Sasuke had noticed him back then. One of several, if he were honest with himself.

Of course, there was the fact that the athletic, blue-eyed blond was pretty much wet dream fodder for a young man in the process of discovering that his sexuality curved decidedly to the left of the rainbow. But it wasn't really Naruto's looks that Sasuke had been drawn to. At least, not exclusively.

Everyone had known Naruto had lost his parents at a young age and had been placed with a guardian who was gone more than he was home. Sasuke had always assumed that was the reason Naruto collected friends the way he did. It must have been lonely. And lonely was something Sasuke knew all about, even though he'd had his family back then. He'd considered once or twice going up to talk to the blond, but Naruto was always surrounded by people, most of whom Sasuke couldn't stand. So he'd done nothing, simply staying in his own social sphere at school. Then he graduated and never looked back.

What would he have done if he'd known that Naruto had been interested in him back then? He supposed it didn't matter now. Sasuke was more focused on the present. And his _present_ goal was to get Naruto to stop dancing around why he was painting him so obsessively.

Sasuke had been curious about the artist who had captured him so well… who had seen beneath his mask. Now that he had found out that painter was Naruto, he felt much more than simple curiosity. The past attraction that he had felt for the blond when he was in school was still there. But now, it had the added layer of knowing that Naruto had been watching him. Memorizing his body. Obsessing about him. There was a dark thrill in that idea that drew Sasuke. Attracted him. He _liked_ being the focus of Naruto's obsession. It was different than the superficial attachments his fans or casual lovers had.

More dangerous.

More addictive.

Sasuke looked back at the painting for a minute, noticing so many intimate details. The small necklace he used to wear with the Uchiha fan, usually hidden beneath his shirt. The small rip on the strap of his bookbag. It had been a birthday present from Itachi, and he hadn't wanted to replace it.

"You even remembered my locker number," Sasuke murmured, looking up from the canvas to pin Naruto with his gaze.

There was a strange tone to Sasuke's voice, a dark satisfaction and possessiveness as he turned to face Naruto. Naruto could say what he wanted, but they both knew that any claim that Naruto hadn't been fixated on him in high school would be a complete and utter lie.

Sasuke moved to the next canvas and pulled back the cloth that covered it. Naruto flinched but didn't try to stop him from looking. It was far too late to do anything to salvage the pretense of a simple artistic interest at this point. Sasuke was somewhat surprised to see this piece was only of his face and torso. There was nothing sexual about it at all. But it was the expression in his face that had Sasuke freezing. So much anguish, and loneliness, a bitter anger wrapped around the edges of it all. The figure in the painting had his fist clenched around the pendant of a necklace. The pendant itself wasn't visible, but Sasuke knew that if he were able to pry open the painted hand, he would find an Uchiha fan clutched within it.

When Itachi had shown him the first painting, Sasuke had been surprised at the amount of emotion Naruto had been able to capture in just his eyes in the works he had displayed to the public. But this painting was… as though someone had ripped out his soul and bared it to the world. He was suddenly grateful that Naruto had kept some of his work hidden from others. Even Itachi hadn't seen him this accurately.

It was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying to see how much Naruto had actually known about him. He had always prided himself on hiding it so well. He wondered what else Naruto saw when he looked at him. He found himself wanting to know Naruto in the same way Naruto knew him.

He went to uncover the remaining paintings, looking at the details and emotions captured by each one. The silence in the room stretched as Sasuke stared at them.

Naruto braced himself, waiting for Sasuke to say something more, to call him a stalker or a pervert. To punch him in the face or shout at him. But instead the man was slowly walking towards him, never breaking eye contact, the same possessiveness that Naruto had heard in the man's voice gleaming in his eyes.

Naruto stood, frozen, not sure what he expected to happen, his eyes helplessly watching the fluid, predatory grace of Sasuke's movements, wishing he could capture it with his paints.

All thoughts of painting fled when Sasuke slid a palm along Naruto's jaw, threading his fingers through the messy blond hair before tugging the blond's face close to his.

"Who's Sakura?" Sasuke's voice had an edge to it, but Naruto hardly registered as he tried to process the question.

"Huh?" Naruto's brain was beginning to shut down with the proximity of Sasuke's body to his. "Who?"

Sasuke smirked at the slightly dazed expression on Naruto's face. "Sakura. Hinata mentioned she used to live with you?"

"Uh… my… ex," Naruto managed to get out, wondering why Sasuke would care about that.

A pleased expression appeared on Sasuke's face. "You should have talked to me in high school, Dobe," he murmured, leaning in slightly, but not quite letting their bodies touch.

Naruto could feel the warmth of Sasuke's breath brush across his lips. He shivered, wanting nothing more than to close the distance and kiss him, but not trusting himself to be able to stop if Sasuke didn't want to do more than tease him. There would be no 'halfway' possible with him.

"Why?" Naruto asked, licking his lower lip. He could feel his whole body practically vibrating at the feel of Sasuke's hands on him. He tried to get control of himself. He wasn't sure how far Sasuke was willing to take this, but Naruto's restraint was hanging by a thread. He was close enough to smell the subtle scent of Sasuke's cologne, and the undertones of the man who wore it. It made him nearly dizzy as he drew a deeper breath. "You would have just shot me down back then."

Naruto couldn't help it as his hand mimicked Sasuke's, sliding along the edge of the sharp, pale jaw, before letting his thumbs dip down to feel the texture of the skin at Sasuke's throat. It was warm and smooth, just as he'd imagined.

Sasuke considered Naruto's words. Would he have been able to step away from his focus on pleasing his family at that time? "You're probably right," he sighed, frustrated with his younger self for trying so long for something so pointless. But it wasn't too late to correct at least one mistake.

"You were too focused on trying to be perfect for your family," Naruto shifted as though to step back, but Sasuke didn't let him, gripping Naruto's wrist.

"Hn. But as you've discovered, I've moved on from that since then." Sasuke's eyes were dark and intense, focused on Naruto's. Naruto could feel the heat of Sasuke's body, could smell the scent of him, blending with the scent of the paints that Naruto had begun to associate with creating Sasuke's body, his image, his presence… reality merging with fantasy and spiraling out of Naruto's control.

Naruto drew a shuddering breath,. "Yeah. I noticed. Hey, Sasuke…"

Sasuke arched a brow, noticing that there was now a slight sheen of sweat forming on Naruto's upper lip. He could feel Naruto's pulse racing beneath his fingertips.

"Hn."

"If you don't want this to, uh… escalate pretty much immediately, you need to get out of my apartment for about two hours."

Sasuke slowly smirked.

Then took the half step closer that brought their bodies brushing lightly against each other. He could feel another shudder ripple through Naruto's frame. "That desperate?"

Naruto's eyes narrowed, his fingers returning to Sasuke's jaw, tightening just on the border of being painful. "I gave you fair warning. Don't complain later. You're supposed to be a clever guy, Sasuke. But you willingly came home with someone who's been obsessively painting you for months. You're lucky I didn't just pin you to the wall and fuck you the second the door closed behind us."

Sasuke didn't flinch. He locked his gaze onto Naruto's, reveling in the darkly possessive look that was directed towards him.

"Maybe I would have been luckier if you had." Sasuke needed Naruto to want him more than the ones who only saw him for his looks. He needed to feel that focus on him, from someone who didn't care about his family or anything else. "Or do you only like to look?"

"Holy _shit,_ " Naruto couldn't have stopped what happened next if his life had depended on it. "You have _no_ fucking idea…"

Naruto decided words were a waste of his time. He brought Sasuke's mouth harshly to his own, slanting his lips across Sasuke's. He drew his tongue over Sasuke's lower lip, and shuddered when that perfect mouth immediately opened for him. Not wanting to do anything that could possibly break this moment or wake him up if this was yet another erotic dream he was having, he slid his tongue into the waiting mouth, feeling Sasuke's tongue return the favor.

Naruto groaned at the taste of the man, breathing in deeply to draw in the clean, faintly spicy scent that he had never been close enough to know. He slid one of his hands down Sasuke's back, resting it in the curve at the base of the spine and pulling their bodies flush together.

His arousal was already painful in his jeans, and he realized it had been weeks since he'd masturbated. Months since he'd last had sex. But he didn't want to rush this. He finally had the object of his obsession in his grasp, and he wanted to explore every inch of him.

Not breaking their kiss, he walked them slowly backwards towards his futon.

He slid his hands up over the front of Sasuke's hip bones, squeezing them slightly before tugging the shirt free from the black pants and rapidly undoing the buttons. When he had them undone, he pushed the fabric aside, his eyes burning with a worshipful lust as the pale flesh that he had spent so much time recreating with his brushes and paints was revealed.

Sasuke was far from modest about his looks. He knew he looked good. But the intensity of the dark, possessive lust that radiated from Naruto's eyes made him feel even more powerful, truly desirable in a way he really hadn't before. The artist saw no 'second best' about Sasuke, no 'father's disappointment'. He only saw Sasuke. But he also didn't see just Sasuke's looks. Naruto saw him for who he was. Aside from his brother, no one else had ever taken the time to do that.

Naruto's hands slid worshipfully over the plane of Sasuke's flat stomach, the warmth of it something he never could achieve with his paints and brushes. Tan fingertips traced every ridge, every plane of Sasuke's chest as Naruto's tongue and lips trailed behind, memorizing every detail until Sasuke was shuddering with need. Naruto's hands still held the traces of paint beneath his fingernails, and he watched in fascination as they slid over the smooth, pale skin of Sasuke's body, more perfect than any canvas could ever be.

Sasuke watched the reverential, lust-ridden expression on Naruto's face as he touched him. Sasuke had had lust directed towards him many times before. This was different. He wanted more.

"Fuck yes," Naruto groaned.

Naruto stepped back just enough to be able to see Sasuke's body that was now bared for him, loving the way the dim light in the room played over the dips and grooves of the bare flesh before him, feeling the heat of Sasuke's skin, so different from the cold paper of the photos he'd had before.

Naruto slowly sank to his knees, pressing his cheek reverently to the perfect stomach. His eyes drifted to the row of paintings, where dark eyes watched them from the many canvases that lined the room. Naruto felt a shudder at the intensity of it all. He was surrounded by images of his fixation, completely immersed. But this time, he had the original. He could do all the things he had fantasized about… things that his mind had told him would be off limits were suddenly possible.

Naruto felt his breath hitch as his pulse stumbled. He needed to offer Sasuke one more chance to end this if he didn't want this. But he didn't know if he could get the words out.

"Sasuke… please… let me," he slid his hands to Sasuke's hips, guiding him down to the mattress.

Blue eyes looked intently into black as he knelt above Sasuke, tan fingers tracing lightly over the ridges of Sasuke's abs.

So perfect.

Naruto waited for permission, unable to control the shaking need in his fingers as they brushed softly against the pale skin.

"Naruto, fuck, just -" Sasuke's words were cut off as Naruto's mouth brushed against his. The way Naruto's eyes were locked on his and the complete focus with which Naruto's attention was latched onto his every move was addictive. He loved to be watched by those eyes. Loved the dark feel of the obsession he could see in their depths. On _him_. No one else.

And the fact that it was Naruto, someone Sasuke had thought had been one of the few who hadn't even noticed him in high school, made it all the better. He looked up briefly to see images of himself surrounding them. Watching them. So much of his own inner emotions laid bare before them. This was how Naruto saw him. Even while fucking him, Naruto saw _this_ in him.

Sasuke couldn't do anything other than arch up as he felt Naruto's hands and tongue moving over him.

* * *

Naruto hummed as he looked over at Sasuke, the dark hair disheveled, the pale, usually stoic face flushed with repletion. The images captured in the magazines had shown Sasuke always in control, keeping himself back. But Naruto had seen him break apart beneath his fingers and mouth, and it was a sight that Naruto would guard jealously in his memory.

"So beautiful," he breathed reverently, bending down to kiss Sasuke's pale lips.

They lay together on Naruto's futon for several minutes waiting for their breathing to slow.

Naruto's gaze remained fixed on Sasuke the entire time. After a moment, the pale man arched an eyebrow in question.

"I just wondered if you were going to disappear. I thought maybe I'd finally lost my mind."

Sasuke looked at him, amusement in his eyes. "Who said you had much of a mind to lose in the first place?"

Naruto blinked, then laughed as he carefully withdrew, tossing the used condom into the trashcan by his bed. "Yeah, you're still just as much of an asshole now as you were back in high school."

Sasuke stretched, noticing the way Naruto's eyes darkened as they ran over his body. He purposefully drew the motion out. "Now I guess you don't need to use the photos."

Naruto's eyes showed a flash of anger again.

Sasuke smirked. "What, you don't like the pictures?"

"No," Naruto said tightly.

Sasuke rolled over, straddling Naruto. "I've made a lot of money modeling them."

Naruto gripped Sasuke's hips, his cock already stirring back to life, but his anger still bubbled beneath it. "Is that all that matters? Money?"

Sasuke shrugged, rolling his hips slightly. "Getting back at my parents after they disowned me for being gay wasn't bad either."

Naruto tried to focus on this conversation rather than the feel of Sasuke's ass pressed against his cock. "And now?"

Sasuke leaned down and kissed him. "We'll see. I had planned on going back to school at some point."

Naruto kissed him back feverishly. "Good. Because I don't want anyone else seeing you naked in real life."

Sasuke arched a brow. "Possessive already?"

Naruto smiled darkly. "You came back to my place after seeing all the paintings I did of you, Sasuke. You're a smart enough guy to be able to tell I'd never let you go once I had you."

Naruto's tone was friendly, but there was a steel behind it that let them both know he was not joking.

Sasuke smirked. He would be lying if he said the obsessive nature of Naruto's fixation on him didn't turn him on. He would never be second in Naruto's eyes. It was good the artist seemed to know him so well.

"And you won't have other models, either," Sasuke's eyes darkened, showing almost equal possessiveness. Naruto was his. He wouldn't let him find another obsession.

"I can work with that," Naruto grinned, pulling Sasuke's mouth to his. He had a feeling he wouldn't be leaving his apartment for weeks again. But this time, he'd be doing something other than painting.

 **The end.**

A/N: For those of you who didn't catch the 'cutting off the ear 'reference, that was referring to Vincent Van Gogh.

Hoped you liked the story! :-) Happy NaruSasu day.


End file.
